


Your Bitch?

by negickapologist (neganstonguething)



Series: Your Bitch? [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, negan's hard on for rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 20:57:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10474272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neganstonguething/pseuds/negickapologist
Summary: Sasha's response to Negan's question gets him worked up in more ways than one.You can blame grab-my-boner on tumblr for this one lmao.





	

It's cold as hell in this part of the Sanctuary, but Negan is burning up. It's probably a mixture of things, like the goddamned sun boring through the filthy windows (someone's gonna clean that shit up today, yes sirree), and Sasha's bold-ass comment, but Negan also knows that while there are factors, one thing centers upon the sensation and it settles most uncomfortably in the crotch of his pants.

He's pitching the most painful fucking tent in his pants, and it's basically because this girl took the time to call Rick his bitch.

Now, Negan has the common sense to know that Rick probably doesn't see it that way, but hot damn. Apparently everyone else does, and that gets Negan's thoughts all kinds of wandering. What does Rick say about Negan when he's gone? What does he actually think about him? Does he think about Negan as much as Negan thinks about him?

Important question too, because Negan thinks about Rick a _whole motherfucking lot_. It's no wonder his dick goes from six to midnight in nothing flat at the mention of Rick having anything sexual to do with him. And no lie here, Negan would most certainly not mind having Rick call himself his bitch.

He's just barely managed to get his important speech(only slightly more important than the engorged state of his cock right now) out just in time to find solace in a broom closet not far off from Sasha's cell. He beckons his men away with a wave of his trusty vampire bat, and is now in the darkness of the closet, panting and mentally trying to will away the heat that is goddamned everywhere around him right now.

It almost works, but then his mind replays the way Sasha talked about Rick, and his brain instantly skip-a-dee-do-dahs right back along that track until he's picturing Rick on his knees in front of him, cheeks all puffed out from a mouthful of Lucille Goddamned 2.0, and he almost busts a fucking nut on the spot on that thought alone.

Negan knows he looks fucking pathetic in this dark closet, groping blindly at the belts around his waist and the zipper to his pants, stifling gasps and moans like an adolescent. If he's being honest, his Saviors probably already know about the perpetual throbbing erection he sports for Rick Grimes, but he doesn't care to give them anything else to talk about. He doesn't need to come back to them joking about him spanking it in the closet. As fun as it is for pals to bust each other's balls, the only one he really wants to be doing that to him right now is Rick, and preferably with his mouth and tongue rather than his quick wit.

Negan really doesn't need to beat off to earn himself the relief he needs, but that doesn't stop him from doing so. If anything, it's the desire to give his dick some room to breathe, and he has a feeling that people will talk less about a mess on the floor in a broom closet than a wet spot on his pants.

He doesn't really give a shit what the people want to say, though. What really matters right now is that Negan is about to fucking explode, and it's all(in the most indirect way) Rick's fault.

Negan doesn't bother covering up the low, relieved moan that escapes him when he gets his pants open and manages to tug his erection free from its confines. He feels the cool air of the closet embrace him, and goddamn, it's about fucking time.

He's almost home free, he thinks. Just gotta sit here and cool off and let his dick remember where they are and that they can deal with this issue later. He really only has to blue-ball himself for half an hour or so--long enough to get back to his room in a semi-hurry and start going to town on himself.

But then he reaches down for his zipper once more, and his hand brushes up against what is still a very pronounced hard-on, and it sparks a wave of images. It starts with Rick swallowing Negan's cock, and then, as Negan's head falls back against one of the shelves in the closet, shifts to their bodies moving together. He can almost feel Rick's skin beneath his fingertips, taste him on his tongue, hear that low voice groaning his name.

It's no surprise at that point that Negan's given up any hope of being able to postpone his moment of self-indulgence.

He curls his fingers around the tip of his cock and then drags them down slowly as he pictures Rick getting onto his hands and knees for him. The heat swells around him once more when the vision of Rick turns his head back to look at him. In the darkness of the cell, those blue eyes gleam like the metal on a dagger.

He wants it so badly that his mind makes it _so_ real. He can almost feel Rick's heat and tightness around his dick, and there's a level of pleasantness in forgetting that he's the one doing all the work right now. He just continues to fuck his hand, grinning and chuckling to himself and only half-assedly attempting to stifle any of the moans falling from his lips.

Even in a vision, Rick is damn perfect. Negan knows he's a feisty little shit in bed, so it isn't hard to envision him shoving Negan back and riding that cock like he was born for it. Which he probably was, because let's face it: there is no way Negan would be getting this bent out of shape over a person if he wasn't perfect for him.

His release comes with the vision of Rick moaning his name, back arching, ass clenching around him, and Negan can almost feel himself finishing inside the other man. By the time he's done, his free hand is grasping desperately at the shelf behind him, and his body is shaking. He's out of breath, and he's laughing to himself.

One of these days, he's going to plow that motherfucker like farmland. And whether or not Rick calls himself Negan's bitch, he's going to want it just as badly as Negan himself does.

He washes his hands in the dirty closet sink, zips himself up, and grabs Lucille from her spot propped up against the wall. And then it's back to business. Maybe he'll pay Alexandria a visit soon...

 

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I'm working on other fics too, haha. Had a rough week last week, but I'm determined to crack down for the duration of this week! c: Hope you enjoyed this little piece of filth while waiting!


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